There was rustling and muttering in
The foe-swarming fields this time.
The captain of the company decided to
Visit this stadium of mumbling joy and pain.
Following this came the acute exasperation
Of a presence that disturbed comrades so
Rolled in the installations of superior instants.
I saw then a youth’s face, always red and heavy
With sin and shame, one saw a red rage
Of blood issue from his lips, this dear boy
Saw a saloon of troubling sweat, a blistering sweat
So sweet and sacred to the flesh so foamy.
There was an uttering of the lips from his cousin
Who surged in front of my body to deceive me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem